


Tumblr BruJay Requests

by MissNaya



Category: DCU
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Bath Sex, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Jealousy, Knotting, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Praise Kink, Public Display of Affection, Spanking, Underage Sex, Watersports, Wetting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-11
Updated: 2017-06-09
Packaged: 2018-10-17 19:09:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10600338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissNaya/pseuds/MissNaya
Summary: A place to put all my Bruce/Jason drabbles. Warnings will go in the chapter notes.





	1. “Don’t move, it’ll be okay.”

**Author's Note:**

> so I've been taking a lot of requests on tumblr, mainly from [this ask meme!](https://dicktofen.tumblr.com/post/159432913262/send-me-a-number-and-a-paring-and-ill-write-a) I figured I might as well put them up here for the ao3 folks to enjoy.
> 
> this chapter includes: angst, refs to Jason's death, no smut

“Don’t move, it’ll be okay.”

Jason couldn’t move much if he tried, trapped under the rubble of an exploded warehouse. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He was just supposed to mow down the gangsters and get out, but it turns out they had a serious backup plan in place to take him down with them. His ears are ringing, he can taste thick smoke in the back of his throat, and his heart is beating fast, though he tries not to show it.

Not now. Not in front of Bruce.

But when he looks through blurry double vision to see Batman hurling broken pieces of concrete and wood off of him, he can’t help it. He remembers that day.

The day he died.

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until a sob disturbs his undoubtedly-broken ribs. Bruce looks at him then, eyes wide behind the cowl, and Jason feels small and young and irresponsible all over again.

He’s not sure what Bruce is thinking when they lock eyes for a few seconds. Is he remembering, too? Does he imagine Jason in red and green and gold, eyes blackened and cheeks swollen from a beating? Is he thinking about his own failure to save him, or Jason’s failure to obey his rules?

Then Bruce moves again, and the spell is broken. He clears the rest of the rubble in record time, then gingerly scoops Jason up, far gentler than Jason ever knew he could be.

“It’s alright, Jason,” he says. “I’ve got you.”

Jason grabs Bruce’s cape and lets fear melt into trust.


	2. “Why did you think that was a good idea?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: bickering, pda, no smut

“Why did you think that was a good idea?”

The way Bruce is glaring at him only makes Jason’s grin widen. He shrugs, reclining in Bruce’s chair in front of the batcomputer.

“'Cuz I knew it’d get you like this.”

Bruce actually sighs, and Jason treasures the sound of his exasperation. It’s actually pretty cute. He’s always prided himself on being able to get _the_ Batman like this: worked up and hands-over-head frustrated like a high school teacher. Granted, he hasn’t thrown his hands up _yet,_ but Jason thinks he can fix that before the night is through.

“We were in public. Anyone could’ve seen.” Bruce’s frown lines deepen. “You should know better by now.”

Jason rolls his shoulders and arches his brows. “Oh, so it’s fine when you and Catwoman have your little rendezvous on top of buildings, but when I try to get in on the action, that’s too much?”

“That's—”

“Different?” Jason blows his bangs out of his face with an irritated puff. “Yeah, sure. I oughta shove my tongue down your throat in front of the whole Justice League. Show you what’s risky.”

“Jason,” Bruce starts, voice low and dangerous, just how he likes.

Jason smiles again. “So that’s a yes. Good to know.”

He stands up, ignores Bruce’s stuttered protests, and throws a wink over his shoulder before sauntering out.


	3. “Shhh, they’ll hear us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: midfuck, dirty talk, Jason being jealous and bitter

“Shhh, they’ll hear us.”

Jason wants to scream just to spite Bruce. It’s easy to get all high-and-mighty about things, he thinks, when you’re not the one with the fucking magnum bat-cock in your ass. And Bruce knows how to use it, too, rocking his hips firm and steady in a way that practically _rips_ a moan out of Jason’s throat with every thrust.

“Th-this place is like three fucking acres big, Bruce, _nobody’s_ gonna hear us,” he says through gritted teeth. Indignantly, he rolls his hips, trying to start their rhythm back up. “ _Move_ already, Christ.”

“I shouldn’t have let you talk me into this,” Bruce mumbles against his throat. Sweat’s dripping down the back of his neck, and Jason runs his fingers through it, practically petting him. “Not with so many people home.”

Jason huffs. He doesn’t want to get into this again. He already told Bruce in scathing detail just what he thought of being relegated to rushed rooftop fucks, motel rooms, and Jason’s safehouses, instead of in a proper bedroom in the manor. Made it plenty known what it does to him to feel like the “other woman” who has to sneak around just to see Bruce. (Bruce, who, by the way, isn’t even in another damn relationship right now.) It’ll kill the mood if he has to rehash.

So instead, he grabs Bruce by the sides of his hair, presses a hot kiss to his mouth, and wraps his legs around his waist, pulling him as close as possible. When he speaks, he does it while looking right into Bruce’s eyes.

“Bruce, here’s what’s gonna happen,” he says. “You are gonna fuck me. I am gonna moan as much as I fucking want, just like all the little models and rich chicks and bombshells you brought up here were allowed to — don’t try and defend yourself, I used to live here. Like I never heard.”

He rolls his hips, clenching his muscles around Bruce, who huffs out a breath through his nose. Jason runs a hand down his sweat-slick chest, possessive and hungry, eyes hard like a wolf’s.

“And if anyone wants to break through your _locked_ door and come say something about it, they can deal with me.” He smirks. “ _After_ we finish, o'course.”

Bruce’s frown melts into something all at once softer and harder. Jason recognizes that hard edge as arousal, and he shudders when Bruce presses into him to the very hilt. This time, he moans against Bruce’s lips.

“…You’re right,” he says when they part. “I’m sorry.”

Jason blinks and cups a hand to his ear. “What was that?” When Bruce rolls his eyes, he repeats, “No, really, what? Say again.”

Bruce doesn’t answer. He just starts to thrust again, faster this time, and Jason can’t do anything but moan.

He smiles through it all. This time, he isn’t shushed.


	4. ABO/Spanking/Wetting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for the request:
> 
>  
> 
> _Unknowing Bruce growling and spanking omega Jay till he pisses himself all over his lap_
> 
>  
> 
> decided to go with an AU where omegas wet themselves to show submission, so woooo ENJOY THAT

No matter how tough Jason tries to act around him, Bruce is always scary when he gets angry. Even when he tempers himself, there’s enough of the Bat in his eyes and the frown lines around his mouth that Jason can’t help but quiver every time.

And, though he refuses to admit it, it’s only gotten worse since he presented as an omega. Bruce is an alpha through and through, and even though everyone says pack mentality is outdated nowadays, Jason still feels it like a physical thing whenever Bruce barks out a command. Unconventional omega that he is, he sometimes tries to resist. Occasionally, Bruce will appreciate the challenge.

Tonight, he most assuredly did not.

It isn’t like Jason _tried_  to mess up their bust. He thought his risky move with Penguin’s goons would give them an edge. But all it did was tip the big guy off, leaving them with a flown coop and not a damn scrap of evidence to hand over to the GCPD.

Jason could tell Bruce was pissed the whole way home. For once, he hadn’t resisted when he barked at him to “Get in the Batmobile, _now.”_ The drive was silent, so tense you could cut through the air with a batarang, and Bruce hadn’t hesitated to order Alfred upstairs the second they got back to the cave. (Alfred, an alpha too, but far past the days when he would’ve fought the demand, left with but a knowing glance in Jason’s direction. Somehow, that part was the worst.)

So that’s how Jason found himself where he is now: bent over Bruce’s lap, still dolled up in his Robin uniform, trying not to shiver at the sound of an alpha’s low, rumbling growl.

“You had simple orders.”

“B-Bruce, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean—”

“Quiet.”

Jason knew it was coming, he _had_  to know, but it still tears a yelp out of him when Bruce brings a hand down on his ass. He squirms, trying to push himself up, but a stern hand on the back of his neck keeps him pinned down.

“We’ve been over this. You’re _backup,_  Robin. Not the front line.”

Another smack. Jason redoubles his efforts, but the pressure on that special spot on his neck makes it hard to fight.

“I know, I know, I just—”

“Don’t tell me you know. Show me.”

_Smack._

“It won’t happen again, okay? I’m sorry. I’m really, really—”

 _Smack._  Jason’s voice rises in pitch.

“— _sorry!_  B, please, c’mon, this is embarrassing—”

“It’s supposed to be.”

 _Smack._  Jason bites his lip to muffle a whimper. He’s becoming much more aware of Bruce’s scent, not that of a rut, but that angry, dominant sort of thing that tells other alphas to back down and omegas to kneel.

He wishes he were kneeling. That’d be less of a blow to his pride.

Bruce keeps going.

“You endangered yourself and the entire mission with your reckless behavior.” _Smack._  “We’ll have to work for weeks to make up for it.” _Smack._  “You’re lucky I don’t bench you.” One last _smack,_  and—

Jason whines, knees trembling, hands fisted in Bruce’s cape, and feels his bladder give out. His piss gathers hot in his shorts, then leaks out down his legs, soaks onto Bruce’s, and splashes with a humiliating noise onto the floor of the cave. It seems to go for an impossibly long amount of time, no matter how much Jason tries to stop himself, but he’s too weak to move and too devastated to do anything but lie there until it ends, anyway.

When it finally stops, there’s silence again. It’s different this time; less angry-tense, more shocked-tense. Bruce’s hand — which he hadn’t even realized had lifted off his neck as soon as he started to piss — takes him by the arm and urges him up, impossibly gentle coming from the alpha who was scolding him just moments ago.

Jason keeps his chin downturned, eyes filled to the brim with tears. When Bruce tugs him forward, he tries to struggle, to keep from getting Bruce any wetter than he already is, but Bruce ignores that and gathers him onto his lap anyway.

“Jason.”

Jason says nothing. He sniffs, and a few traitorous tears spill out of his eyes and fog up the lenses of his mask. Bruce peels it off, then gently runs a thumb under his eye to wipe the tears away.

“Jason, look at me.”

He doesn’t want to, but a small tug of his chin gets him to relent. It’s… unexpected, the sudden softness in Bruce’s eyes. Jason feels like he doesn’t deserve it, and he chokes out a sob.

“I-I’m s-s-sorry, Bruce, I-I-I—”

“Shh.” Bruce pulls him to his chest, one hand stroking the back of his head, the other rubbing soothing circles into his back. “It’s perfectly normal for an omega under stress to react that way. I… took it too far. I’m sorry.”

Jason stills, the apology catching him off guard. Brow creasing, he sniffles some more, bringing his hands up to curl against Bruce’s chestplate.

“You…?”

“Mhm.” He feels Bruce nod against him, chin resting on the top of his head. There’s a moment where it seems like Bruce doesn’t know what to say, but eventually, he continues, “Even alphas make mistakes sometimes.”

“B-but I didn’t listen, so I—”

“You made a mistake, too. I sometimes forget how young you are.”

“…Not _that_  young…”

Bruce’s lips press against his hair. If Jason isn’t mistaken, he thinks he can feel them curl into a smile.

“Young enough. Now, come on.” Bruce stands, pulling Jason to his feet. He feels uncomfortably cold, wet, and takes comfort in the way Bruce wraps his arms around him. “How do you feel about a bath?”

Jason wipes at his eyes and smiles up at him. “Sounds pretty good.”


	5. ABO/Daddy Kink/Praise Kink/Bath Sex

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so I wasn't intending to write a sequel to the fic immediately preceding this one, but I got an ask and things spiraled when I started to answer it:
> 
>  
> 
> _THAT DRABBLE!!! omega Robin Jason and stern but caring Bruce is so [heart emoji], but I gotta ask, do they fuck during/after the bath orrrr ??? I feel like it would be prime time for Jason's daddy kink to come out TBH_
> 
>  
> 
> technically it can be read as a standalone I think :|a and there's no watersports in this one, if that's not your thing. warnings for ABO, underage, and daddy kink apply, though.

It was supposed to be a comforting thing, Bruce bathing with Jason. A way for them both to relax after a quick shower, with Jason in Bruce's arms in the spacious tub. Alpha and omega, yes, but more importantly, father and son. And it had been exactly that, for a while. No noise except the slow ripple of the water whenever one of them shifted, and Jason's contented little sighs.

Until Jason's sighs began to quicken. And his hands, on top of Bruce's around his middle, started to tense. And the little movements of his hips between Bruce's legs became much more pointed in a very familiar way.

“...Jason.” It's Bruce's turn now, to go rigid where he sits. And “rigid” doesn't just describe the tension in his shoulders and arms. His cock, nestled against the ridge of Jason's ass, is starting to— “Jason, you need to...”

He trails off as Jason turns and looks at him, eyes half-lidded, cheeks tinged a deep shade of pink. It's then that Bruce catches a faceful of the scent he'd been trying to ignore, that sweet smell of an omega starting up a heat.

“Bruce...” Jason breathes.

Damn it. He should've caught the warning signs sooner.

“Jason,” Bruce mutters, acutely aware that his lips are far too close to Jason's own. “We can't.”

Jason whines, and this time, when he moves his hips, it's with much less restraint, trapping Bruce's hardening cock between his stomach and Jason's ass.

“Touch me,” he says, and it's far too pretty and seductive to be coming out of his little boy's mouth. He tries to force Bruce's hands lower, but they remain locked firm around his stomach. “Touch me, _please..._ ”

Bruce has to tilt his head back and take a deep breath to try and clear his head. For a second, Jason's scent is much less concentrated, but it won't be long before it permeates every inch of the modest, steamed-up bathroom.

Jason takes the opportunity to press his face up against Bruce's neck and inhale _his_ scent. From the way he lets out a shaking exhale afterward, Bruce knows he's entering a rut. His natural scent is hard enough for the poor boy to handle during his heats, but the scent of an alpha in rut? He needs to put a stop to this, now. He needs to— to—

Jason snakes out a tongue to lick the beading sweat off his skin. There's just a hint of teeth to it, probably accidental, but Bruce grunts anyway.

This time, when Jason urges his hands down, he doesn't resist.

Even under the water, Bruce can feel Jason's slick gathered at his entrance. He moves his finger in a circle, spreading it around, and then, without thinking, starts to push it inside. Jason's drawn-out gasp is _heavenly,_ and Bruce wants to hear more of it, so he pumps his finger in and out while Jason spreads his legs open wider.

“ _Yes,_ ” Jason moans. He brings up one hand to the side of Bruce's face, and Bruce lets himself look down again. His own eyes are half-lidded now, gaze focused on Jason's lips, so pink, so soft. “Bruce. _Bruce._ Yeah...”

Despite how lovely Jason's voice is — perhaps because of it — Bruce kisses him. Jason sinks into it immediately, and Bruce allows himself to take control, nipping Jason's lip and licking into his mouth with all the confidence of someone who's done it a million times before. Jason yields easily, young and inexperienced, shaking fingers tugging at the short hairs near the base of Bruce's neck.

Jason feels so small, but he's so wet, so Bruce adds another finger to test out the stretch. Jason alternates between tensing and relaxing, rather than just opening up like a more practiced omega would. Bruce is careful, but firm, prepping him with swirls of his fingers and scissoring motions.

He wants to knot him. He _needs_ to knot him.

The kiss continues until Jason gets even more breathless, almost hyperventilating by the time he leans his head back against Bruce's collarbone. The poor thing's never been with an alpha before, and Bruce knows via feedback that his ruts can be intoxicating. He presses kisses over Jason's face, his hair, and shushes him, trying to watch how fast he fucks him with his fingers.

“Breathe, Jason,” he mutters against his skin.

Jason sounds like he's going to cry, but his face is so slick with sweat and steam already that it's hard to tell if he's tearing up. “I-I _can't...!_ ”

“You can,” Bruce says. “You can.”

He cups Jason's chin with his free hand and presses a kiss to his lips. “Breathe,” he says, and continues the repetition, the kiss-speak-kiss, until eventually Jason's chest starts to rise and sink in a much less frantic way.

Jason licks his lips. “Your knot,” he says. “Need your knot, please daddy...”

Any other time, he'd freeze. They both would. Any other time, Bruce would be horrified, he'd stop this, he'd be _himself,_ but right now, with a new omega between his legs and slick around his fingers, with Jason's scent in his nostrils and clinging to his skin, with Jason's lips so close to his own and begging to be claimed like the rest of him, he can't bring himself to pull away.

He'll hate himself in the morning. For now, he kisses Jason, deep and commanding, and fucks him with three fingers until Jason's whimpering underneath him.

He tries to control himself long enough to make sure Jason's properly stretched, but as soon as he pulls his fingers out, Jason crowds him and tries to sit down on his dick.

“Not like this,” Bruce tries to urge him, “not like this. Jason, it's too much for you. Jay, come now, Jay—”

But Jason is over-enthusiastic and lost to his instincts, and once he gets the tip inside himself, he doesn't want to get off. Bruce doesn't _want_ him to get off. Slowly, the hands on his hips relent, and he allows Jason to try and sink down at his own pace.

He gets about a quarter of the way in before a groan is ripped from his throat, one tinged with about as much pain as pleasure. But rather than try to get off, he simply rocks his hips, trying to take more in little by little, and _god,_ Bruce could almost come then and there. His omega, his beautiful, perfect son, is so tight and so wet and so eager, and Bruce urges him on by rubbing firm little circles with his thumbs into the muscles just above his ass.

Jason has himself lifted upright with a hand on either edge of the tub, and Bruce can see his arms shaking. He leans forward and presses a kiss to Jason's spine, muttering with his lips against his back.

“So good, Jay, you're doing so wonderful for me,” he says. “Let yourself relax. You can do it. I know you can.”

That seems to do the trick. Jason loosens up a little bit more with each bit of praise he gets, until eventually he's taken Bruce in all the way to the top of his knot. Then he collapses back, and Bruce takes over most of the work, hands on his hips, thrusting up into his tight heat.

Jason moans against his jaw, arms splayed back against Bruce's chest, positively sensual in a way someone his age shouldn't be. Bruce licks his lips and kisses him, drinking down his noises of pleasure like wine.

“Knot, daddy,” Jason says once they part. He's got that glazed-over look in his eyes, the one no alpha in their right mind could ever refuse. “Knot, daddy, daddy, please, mmnh...”

“Relax,” Bruce says, one last time. He pushes down, and his boy sinks onto his swollen knot.

Jason throws his head back and moans, hitting a pitch only omegas can. It's a noise of utmost satisfaction, of desire, of contentment, and it's never sounded better coming from anyone else. And just like that, Bruce knows he's doomed.

He brings a hand down to start pumping Jason's cock, and though he can't thrust properly, the way Jason wiggles and clenches around him is incomparably incredible. He growls, hitting alpha pitch just as easily as Jason hit omega's, and all he can think is _mine, mine, mine, mine, mine._

“Good, so good for me, there you go, Jay, there you are,” he mutters, while Jason whimpers and squeals against his cheek. “I need you to come for me, let me feel it, Jason, good boy, good Jay, just like that for daddy—”

Jason whines and then _screams,_ back arching, legs jerking. His fingers scrabble for purchase on Bruce's arms, scratching into him hard enough to leave marks, and he spurts out cum over Bruce's fist and into the water. The feeling of Jason's muscles going crazy around his cock throws Bruce over the edge in turn, and he pulls Jason down flush, locked onto him tight while he spills every drop of his seed into his ass.

And just like that, they're done. Jason sinks back against him, Bruce wraps his arms back around his middle, and they sit there, linked, pruning up in lukewarm water that's been splashed all over the bathroom. Jason's eyes are closed now, and Bruce has never seen him look so content in his life, so satiated.

They're going to have to have a long talk about this once they've both come back to their senses. For now, though, there's no harm in enjoying themselves for a little while longer.

 


End file.
